Wherefore Was It Glorious
by SamuelSpaz
Summary: Magnus and Will get sucked  quite literally  into a classic story. When people start to seem too familiar, are they doomed to see the novel through to the end, or does their adventure serve a higher purpose? More serious than it sounds.
1. Chapter 1

_"Did you not call this a glorious expedition? And wherefore was it glorious? Not because the way was smooth and placid as a southern sea, but because it was full of dangers and terror, because at every new incident your fortitude was to be called forth and your courage exhibited, because danger and death surrounded it, and these you were to brave and overcome. For this it was a glorious, for this was it an honorable undertaking…"_

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><p>The heavens had opened up four hours previous, inundating the ancient gothic structure with buckets upon barrels of rain. It was a slow day in the Sanctuary, a rare occurrence given the nature of the work done there. Nevertheless, Helen Magnus always found a way to make the best use of her time.<p>

The colossal library she had spent years accumulating needed some spring cleaning. Well, it was more like spring organizing, as Helen wouldn't dare to actually get rid of any of her books. Her trusty assistant, on the other hand, was more befuddled as to why she had kept some of the titles in her overcrowded collection as long as she had.

"_The Mythology of the Dragonfly_?" Will stated quizzically to Magnus from behind an ever-growing wall of books, turning over a three inch thick volume in his hand, "I had no idea there this many myths involving dragonflies in existence."

He paused and leaned back against a dusty shelf to peer around the teetering tower blocking Magnus from view.

"You'll find that there's a lot more mythology regarding seemingly commonplace items than one would suppose. But dragonflies are actually quite interesting. In Western culture, they were most often viewed as sinister and evil, but in Japan they are symbols of courage and strength, even happiness…"

"Magnus?"

"Yes?"

"Can I…?"

"No."

"Really?"

"No," Magnus repeated adamantly, not even glancing up from the deep purple volume she remained invested in, "Wait…I mean, yes. Yes to the really. No to the attempt to further weed down my collection."

Will gave a cheeky grin and Helen shook her head before breaking into a slight smile.

"Put it back on the shelf, Will."

"And I should because…"

"Because I'll fire you if you do anything to that edition. It happens to be a gift from a rather good friend."

"Wait let me guess—"

"You won't be able to guess."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

Helen shut the purple book she had been holding with a soft and rather dusty thud and carefully stood up. With the rain pounding away, they had been in the library for hours, although their organizing often lapsed into the more engaging activity of reading about and discussing the vast array of colourful and fascinating topics disguised so neatly by leather covers and oak shelving. Helen tried not to topple any of the precarious piles which comprised their little maze of literature as she made her way to a library table.

"What about this? _Traversable Wormholes: The Key to Time Travel_?"

Helen turned, almost knocking over a rather high stack of what looked like encyclopedias older than time itself. She gracefully caught herself at the last minute.

"I have most definitely been looking for that one."

Will reached over the sea of books to hand it to her. Magnus took it eagerly and perched on the edge of the wooden table to flip through it. He watched her for a moment, but once it became clear that she wasn't going to discuss any of what she was skimming the book for with him, he gave up.

Turning back to the mess, he focused his attention on the nearly empty shelf from which the mess had come. A few books remained, scattered here and there. Of the ones left, most had fallen over once their supporting counterparts had been removed.

What caught Will's eye was a small book tucked back into a corner on the right side of the second-highest shelf. The edition was a deep, striking red, almost like the color of fresh blood. Will's curiosity was inexplicably spiked by this little object hidden away in a remote corner of the Sanctuary's library.

Noting that it was out of reach, Will dragged over the pile of encyclopedias, which looked thick and sturdy enough to support his weight. He glanced back to the table.

Magnus had apparently tuned out the world as she read. He noted that sometimes with her; although she was perpetually their fearless leader, she also often retreated into her mind when she focused on something. Will had many times walked into her office and sat for minutes on the edge of the plush sofa before she looked up from her work and noticed his presence.

Will climbed cautiously onto the pile, which was stable enough for him to stand on his toes and reach for the book. He clasped his fingers around the smooth leather cover and he began to remove his prize.

"Will?"

Now it was his turn to be awoken from a stupor. Magnus' voice startled him and he instinctually jerked at the sound. As he turned quickly towards her, his foot slipped off the edge of the top encyclopedia and he plummeted towards the hard floor tile floor strewn with more books.

The click of Helen's heels echoed through the hall as she dashed over the stacks to reach him.

"Will?" she repeated, "Are you alright?"

He had landed amidst paper and leather, so not much damage had been done.

"I'm fine," he assured her, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position, "I'm just going to have a few nasty bruises tomorrow."

"What in heaven's name were you doing?"

"I was trying to reach—"

He glanced around the space, as his motivation for climbing on top of ancient volumes had slid out of his clutch during his little accident. He found it a few feet away, beyond their haven of books, lying open on its spine.

"—to reach that nasty bugger," he explained.

Concluding that Will was just fine, Helen stood and leaped over another pile to get the small red book. She removed from the floor, closed it and ran her fingers over the cover, including the engraved title.

"Interesting choice, Will."

"What?"

Having finally gotten to his feet, Will joined Helen in the middle of the empty floor. He leaned behind her as she kneeled and read the cover over her shoulder.

"Ever read it?" she asked him, turning her face so she could see his.

"I think I did."

"You can't remember? Maybe I should take a look at your head…"

"No," he said, gently swatting away her hand, "I just mean that if I did I read it, it was probably in school and it may not have had my full attention."

"Ah," Helen smiled to herself, "Ashley didn't care very much for English literature either."

"My attention was more likely focused on—"

"The opposite gender," Helen finished for him, standing up with the book still shut in her hand and beginning to walk back to the table.

"What I was actually going to say was other subjects," Will stated, "But, you know, not like there's a big difference—"

"—Will—"

"—or anything like—"

"—Will!"

He stopped his retort and turned toward Magnus. She was frozen in the center of the floor, a few feet from him. The look of confusion on her face was a product of the soft grey mist slowly filtering out of the book, which was now open to a random page. It crept around Magnus like fog, but spread much quicker; in a few seconds it had occupied not only a few feet around her but was almost as tall as her waist. And it gave no indication that it would stop.

Will's first instinct was to reach Helen. This he tried, plunging into a murky sea as the mysterious element grew to engulf them both. As he pushed into the swirling mist, it began to crackle. He fumbled forward and found Helen's arm; her solidity and the soft black fabric between his fingertips assured him that it was her.

The crackles grew into snaps as well, building into a fire around them. Sparks jumped from the burning cloud to them and from them to the burning cloud, until the light show finally climaxed. As quickly as the two had been engulfed, the fog dissipated, leaving library silent, with nothing but a small, slightly singed red book dropping out of thin air to the shiny tiles below.

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><p><strong>AN: First Sanctuary fic! I'm not 100% sure where this is headed, although I do know where the two have literally gone and I have a vision (in progress) for this. Think of this story of half Lost in Austen, half Wizard of Oz, with the tone of the show and all our favorite Sanctuary characters in classic piece of Romantic/Gothic literature. And sorry, for I feel like as far as word choice and fluency and overall effectiveness of writing, this isn't my best piece of work. Still, feedback is appreciated and helpful!**


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Will noticed as he came to was the smell. The air hung over him like a wet blanket, murky, heavy and damp. A slight rancid odor tickled his nostrils, never quite there, but never really going away either. Despite its traces, he breathed in deeply. The second thing he noticed was the stillness. As his eyes fluttered open a grey sky flickered into view, framed by prickly branches and a stray leaf or two. Nothing moved and nothing sounded.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the crunch of dried leaves somewhere in the immediate vicinity.

"Magnus?"

Will sat up briskly, trying to ignore the pain shooting through his head as he did so. Blinking, he glanced around and found her a few feet away, half covered by leaves and a low, creeping fog. She had sat up as well, but the confusion was melting away from her face quicker than Will's.

Helen hobbled to her feet and moved over to him as quietly as she could given the dead foliage. There was an eerie bearing to the wood surrounding them. It was a world still and quiet, thanks in part to the sentiment of the muffling fog.

"Magnus," Will stated hesitantly, scanning his environment and the woman before him to ensure that all was real, "Do you know anything about this?"

She glanced around cautiously, as if to make sure no one was coming.

"I have a hunch. I do not, however, have any explanation as to how that hunch is even possible."

Will looked up into her startlingly calm eyes.

"You don't mean…"

She nodded and he gulped.

"Oh, boy."

"We should look around," Helen concluded, rising from crouching next to Will.

"I've got to say, isn't this a little creepy?" Will commented, scrambling join her.

The two of them stood very alone in the middle of a forest straight out of a horror film.

"I guess there have always been those among us with active but dark imaginations," Magnus mused.

"Hopefully fact remains stranger than fiction. If I can handle Abnormals, I can certainly handle a nineteenth century novel."

Helen gave an unexpected shiver.

"Not scared already?" teased Will uneasily.

"No, it's just cooler than it looks out here. We should move on and find cover."

"Or even a sign of life would be good."

Magnus observed the trees and after a moment chose a direction at random.

"Shouldn't we give more consideration than that to where we're headed?"

"I doubt it would make much of a difference."

Magnus was right; every direction appeared essentially the same—trees emerging ominously out of a thick accumulation of white fog.

"Besides," she continued, "I expect Mary will take better care of her guests than to let them stray too far from plot. She never was a big fan of free will."

The two set off in the direction chosen by Helen, ignorant but wary of the wonders and terrors which awaited them.

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><p>They hadn't ventured far and certainly hadn't been walking for more than half an hour when the forest rapidly thinned and gave way to a worn dirt road. The fog was still present enough to make hazy the fields on the other side of the road, but coated less heavily than before. Helen gestured down the way in the less cloudy direction.<p>

"Let's go this way."

Helen and Will treaded the middle of the road for a little while, certain that if anyone approached they would be able to hear it easily in this silent, still world.

A few moments later, they encountered their first sign of human existence. A rusty and dated iron-wrought gate to the right of the road beckoned the two unexpected travellers to the graveyard beyond.

"Everyone mocks clichés, but being in one is much cooler than it looks," Will noted to Helen.

"Shhh…" Helen quieted him.

In the opposite direction from which they had come, a lone horse could be heard getting closer, the sound of his hooves echoing from behind the white veil.

As it drew nearer, Helen grabbed Will's arm.

"This way," she whispered, and darted through the gate hanging on its hinges to the unknown world inside.

Crouching behind a relatively large and ornate monument near the entrance, the two waited as the steady clopping got louder and closer. Will glanced at Helen as she put a finger to her lips, encouraging him to stay quiet. This didn't stop him from leaning over and questioning her judgement.

"Shouldn't we be trying to find a way to civilization, not avoiding one?" he whispered softly but firmly to her.

"And how would you feel if two strangers in foreign clothing surprised you as you rode out of the fog?" she retorted, "Besides, I want to see where we are."

"You could just _ask_ him."

"How do you know it's a him?"

"Well, I do seem to remember that there weren't too many female characters. And that the few that were present met a rather grisly fate. The author must have had some serious problems, so…"

"I just want to see where we are in the plot. And I can't simply walk up and mention to someone that they're fictional."

"_You_ probably could…" Will commented to himself, "Probably done it before even."

"You two are exceedingly odd," came a deep but quiet voice from behind them.

Magnus and Will turned sharply around.

"Who are you?" both the stranger and Magnus simultaneously questioned and demanded.

He was taller than both of them and looked older than he really was. A simple dark hat covered his head and a black leather coat fell to his knees, dusty and well-worn. His stance was that of a nobleman, an individual who knew that his status in life was slightly above that of everyone else. Yet black dress pants were tucked haphazardly into muddy boots and although he usually could attire himself well and took pride in doing so, his overall image on that misty day was of a rather attractive and handsome individual who was currently dishevelled and out of place.

He narrowed his eyes and examined the two.

"Is there a particular reason you're hiding in my graveyard?" he further queried quietly before Magnus could speak, "I have so business to attend to and I would be much obliged if you would leave me to revel in my solitary thoughts without distraction."

"Excuse me, your graveyard? Who are you exactly?"

"Well, it's my graveyard for the moment. I have some private intercourse to do with those no longer among us."

Helen was quiet as the man stared at them with increasing intensity.

"I was referring to the departed, in case you didn't get that."

Another moment passed with their gazes locked, before Helen spoke what was on her mind.

"You're not at all like I imagined."

"Magnus—" urged Will under his breath.

"I mean the pride's certainly there, but where's the curiosity? Aren't you at least curious as to who we are?"

"I beg your pardon? I believe I asked you immediately upon my discovery of your improper graveyard decorum. You desecrate sacred ground."

"Look who's talking," smirked Will, expecting a reprimanding glare from Magnus, but not receiving one as she remained fixated on the stranger, "I mean, this is _him_, right?"

"Forgive my manners," Helen continued, paying little attention to Will, "I'm Dr. Helen Magnus."

She smiled at him, but he looked even more miffed than before.

"I have never before met a woman who had the audacity to call herself by the privileged title of 'Doctor.' You are a queer woman, Miss Magnus."

Her smile fell slightly, but her gaze never left his.

"I have been called worse. And what may I call you? Mr…?"

A soft breeze shuffled through the landscape, the first consequential movement in a long while. Still, their stranger stood as straight and stiff as a pole, unbending. He watched the curious young man before him and the enigmatic woman whose dark hair whipped about her face in the wind, but whose eyes remained focused firmly on his face. He couldn't quite define it, but a subtle, defiant spark in her eye indicated to him that she already knew his identity.

"Frankenstein," he said emotionless, "Victor Frankenstein."

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><p><strong>AN: First of all, thank you for the wonderful reviews! I love feedback (who doesn't!). I will try to update as frequently as possible, but I don't really have an estimate on how long between updates (sorry, as a frequent reader, I know how frustrating waiting for a new chapter is...haha, this is assuming some of you still like it after this chapter :P). And in case anyone hadn't noticed, I'm taking a few liberties with the characters in Mary Shelley's work; you'll see why shortly. Also, sorry about some of the awkward dialogue; it definitely isn't my strong point :P**


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